


"Why shouldn't I Make The First move Toward A Man I Desire"

by Cusp_of_Sensitivity



Category: The Musketeers (2014)
Genre: Actual Death Experiences, Blow Jobs, Cunnilingus, Episode: s01e07 A Rebellious Woman, F/M, Near Death Experiences, Oral Sex, Porn With Plot, Sleeping with your boss, Standing in the rain, Vaginal Sex, With A Twist
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-15
Updated: 2017-03-24
Packaged: 2018-10-05 15:59:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,219
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10311899
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cusp_of_Sensitivity/pseuds/Cusp_of_Sensitivity
Summary: A re-write of "A Rebellious Woman" in which Ninon eludes the Cardinal's plot to try and burn her as a witch and has a lot of sex.





	1. Chapter 1

“Why shouldn’t I make the first move toward a man I desire”

Treville smiled at the audacity of the beautiful blond standing in front of him. He had received the message when he returned to the Garrison, requesting his presence at a hotel on the Passage de la Trinite, not realizing it was from a woman he had just seen two hours before. She had come to the palace to demand answers as to why her servant Therese had been killed by the royal carriage. When confronted with the missive that Therese had attempted to give to the Queen before dying, she freely admitted writing it, verbally sparring with the Cardinal before sweeping out of the library, having refused the King’s request to walk with him in the garden.

But then, Ninon de Larroque had never been lacking in audaciousness. The woman known as the most intellectual of the great Parisian salon hostesses had, in fact, started life as Ninon de L’Enclos, an orphan from a bourgeois Provencal family who had become an incredibly successful courtesan after being deflowered by a Comte when she was fourteen. Her immense fortune had come from fucking the richest and most powerful men in Christendom, men who paid a great deal for the privilege of getting Ninon on her back. Not satisfied with simply collecting fees for giving her lovers unbelievably erotic encounters, she invested her money very wisely, quadrupling it so she was one of the wealthiest women in France when she returned to her homeland after years abroad. Seducing the head of the College of Heralds had landed her an aristocratic pedigree from a very old, and conveniently extinct, noble family, allowing her to assume the title of Comtesse. She set up her salon and quickly attracted a coterie of ladies who shared her enjoyment of intellectual pursuits. 

“Are you sure you’re not too distressed at present?” Treville asked with just a hint of sarcasm as she came toward him. 

“I was too distressed to have to listen to the King’s tedious conversation,” Ninon replied, her hands going to the lacing at the back of her green cavalier dress. “And to fend off his clumsy advances.”

“Louis wants to fuck you,” Treville told her honestly. “And for a woman of your experience and talents, becoming the King’s mistress would certainly be a feather in your cap.”

“He’s not the kind of lover I prefer to entertain,” Ninon said, pulling down the bodice of her dress and extricating her arms from the sleeves so she was bare to the waist. “I think you’re better equipped to handle me.” She cupped her plump breasts in her hands as though offering them to him.

“Louis has his father’s fat cock,” Treville said, feeling his own prodigious shaft hardening in his breeches as his mouth watered at the thought of sucking her pink nipples into his mouth.

“But not his father’s ability to use it properly,” Ninon countered, untying the laces of her skirts and letting them fall to the floor. 

Watching her step out of the circle of fabric was like watching Botticelli’s Venus step off her clamshell. Ninon came up to him, her fingers tugging at the knot that secured his cloak around his body, undoing it and letting the soft leather fall to the floor. She kissed him softly, wrapping her arms around his neck, and her lips parted under his as he deepened the kiss. His hands cupped her firm buttocks, pulling her up against the erection straining against his breeches. Her hands went to the fastenings of his frock coat, tearing it open and shoving it off his shoulders.

“And now, Captain,” she said breathlessly when they came up for air, “why don’t you fuck me the way I know you’re capable of?” She led him over to beautifully decorated chaise, getting on her hands and knees on the plush cushions, giving him a seductive smile as he stopped next to her.

Treville smiled back, slowly unfastening the front of his breeches. He took his time freeing his thick, iron hard cock, and he stroked his hand up the swollen red length right in front of her face, but just out of reach of her mouth. Ninon stared, enrapt, as salty fluid emerged from the tip and when he eased his hips forward, her tongue came out to lick the drops from the smooth crown. Giving her a wicked smile, Treville moved to the end of the chaise, kneeling behind her. He caressed the twin moons of her buttocks, his throbbing cockhead lightly grazing them on the way to her waiting pussy. He felt the heat seconds before he felt the dampness. He heard her moan as his bulbous cockhead opened her body to his invasion and would’ve chuckled if he hadn’t been enjoying the wet slide as his thick shaft went all the way to the hilt. He pulled out until only his tip was still inside her, then tunneled back in, and Ninon arched her back to take him in deeper. Treville gripped her hips and used his hold to establish a rhythm that had her crying out in delight as his cock smacked her sweet spot at a steady pace. He spread her cheeks to watch the lewd act of his shaft piercing her slit, the hardened length glistening with her juices.

“Oh God, yes,” Ninon gasped, the speed of her hips increasing as she strove to get more of the delicious sensations that he was giving her. “This is what I need. A huge cock making me come like a new bride, not a boring stroll in the Tuileries.”

“You know you’ll never be a bride for anyone,” Treville said as he reached around to squeeze her resilient breasts and pluck at the hard nipples, groaning when her delectable pussy massaged his broad shaft as it delved between her thighs. 

“No,” Ninon agreed, “but that doesn’t mean I can’t enjoy a good wedding night every now and then.” She panted as one of his hands went lower to find the pearl hidden between her nether lips and press it at the same time he changed the angle of his stroke. Ninon’s head tipped back and she cried out as her orgasm racked her body. Treville thought she never looked more beautiful than in that moment of climax and he pulled her hips back sharply and thrust as hard as he could. On the last stroke, he gave a triumphant shout as his cock exploded, releasing a torrent of hot seed to coat her walls.

“Mmm,” Ninon purred when they came back down from their high, “I knew I was going to enjoy getting fucked by you, Captain.” She flexed her hips and Treville’s breath came out in a hiss as his shaft jumped back to life. Ninon looked back at him with a laughing smile and ground her body against his.


	2. Chapter 2

“Will I see you again?”

Athos looked at the Comtesse de Larroque as they stood in her bedroom, the last room in his search for Fleur Bodin. He had followed her as she led him from room to room, each one empty of all occupants. She stood by as he checked every possible hiding place, her face becoming more irritated as it became clear he wasn’t going to simply take her word that the girl wasn’t in the house. When he had searched her bedroom, she went into a spirited defense of her teaching young women, defiant of what he thought of the impropriety. He admired her conviction of doing what she thought was right, and he also found himself responding to her earlier flirtatiousness, something he would never have thought possible even a few weeks ago.

“Why?” he asked, watching with a mix of interest and trepidation as she came toward him. Her lips were soft and pliant as she kissed him, and his hands went to her waist as though it was the most natural thing in the world. His fingers flexed, unsure of whether to pull her body against his so he could thoroughly claim her mouth, and he allowed her tongue to tease his as they touched, moving back and forth in each other’s mouths. He enjoyed the sweet taste of her mouth and could’ve stayed there sampling it for a long time, but Ninon was already pulling away.

“That’s why,” she told him, her light eyes growing darker with desire as she gazed into his. “Come back and dine with me this evening,” she asked as she sank down to her knees in front of him.

Athos watched, enrapt, as Ninon’s hands went to the front of his breeches, her fingers swiftly undoing the laces and pulling the leather and linen down off his hips, freeing his already partially aroused cock. She held him in her hand as she licked a stripe up his thickset shaft, and he groaned as he felt his body becoming rock hard under her touch. Ninon lightly brushed those delectable full lips against the smooth, mushroom shaped cockhead, coaxing forth milky droplets from the tip, curling them into a satisfied smile before parting them to take him into her mouth. Athos gasped as her tongue swiped away the salty tears, circling around his crown, then sliding him deeper inside. Her delicate fingers wrapped around the base and pumped in time with the movement of his shaft going in and out of the “O” her mouth. Athos closed his eyes as his head tipped back, and his hand came to rest on her head, fingers sinking into the golden curls. He felt her unoccupied hand come up to cup his heavy testes, stroking the baby smooth underside while the other continued pumping and her mouth sucked on him. Ninon tipped her head back and relaxed her throat, allowing his length to go further inside. Athos growled his appreciation as she swallowed him down, her mouth caressing him intimately, thinking that he missed having a woman’s lips wrapped around him, sucking on him like she was starving, and that Ninon wasn’t really the straitlaced bluestocking he thought she was when he walked into her library. Feeling that he was reaching his peak, his hold on her head tightened as he took control of their encounter, moving her head to the position he desired for fucking her mouth. Her hands gripped his hips for balance and she relaxed into his grip as his thrusts became harder and faster. His cock slid in all the way to the hilt as he rutted between her lips, until she thought she might choke, then pulling out so she could take a breath before he plunged back inside her soft, warm mouth. On one of his strokes, her teeth lightly skimmed his most sensitive place, and Athos could no longer hold back his orgasm.

“Ninon,” he groaned, thrusting a little further in then releasing a flood of hot seed over her tongue. They locked eyes as she swallowed the salty fluid, the noises she made leaving him in no doubt that she enjoyed the taste of him as she feasted on his cock. When he was finally empty, she slowly eased him from her delicious mouth, looking up at him with expectantly.

“Since you’ve already provided me with an hors d’oeuvre,” Athos told her as he readjusted his breeches, “it would be ungentlemanly of me not to return to enjoy the rest of the meal.”

“Shall we say eight o’clock?” Ninon said as he helped her to her feet


	3. Chapter 3

“I want equality between the sexes, not hate.”

Athos was about to reply when a commotion came from behind them. They turned to see Aramis tossing a Red Guard out of Ninon’s door. 

“Trouble,” Aramis told them, gesturing back inside.

“These are the Cardinal’s men. I knew nothing of this,” Athos protested, lest she think that their visit to the morgue to view Therese’s body was just a clever ruse to get her out of the house so another search could be performed. 

Inside, the scene in Ninon’s library was chaos. Red Guards were carelessly throwing books everywhere, even the rare first editions that had required great time and expense on Ninon’s part to acquire. The ladies who had been reading and discussing and in every way minding their business were not left unmolested, but were shoved or dragged by their hair or across the room by the Guards. Athos and Aramis fought the Cardinal’s men skillfully, using books in addition to their well-honed brawling abilities to disarm and beat their opponents. Athos had a Guard in a chokehold when another one called out angrily.

“They’re not here!”

Athos released his hold on the Guard as the leader of the group stalked over to Ninon, taking her upper arms in a viselike grip.

“Where are the girls?” he shouted at her, pointing to an open door in the massive bookcase.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Ninon said, giving the man an icy stare as Athos pulled him away from her.

“The four girls that went missing,” the Guard growled out, “were being kept in the hidden chamber behind the bookcase. Where are they?”

Athos left Ninon’s side to look inside the chamber. There were narrow four beds that had clearly been slept in. He gave Ninon a questioning look as she faced down the Guard.

“Those beds,” Ninon said imperiously, “are for anyone who needs to rest while pursuing their studies.” She gestured toward the ladies huddled near one of the columns. “The occupants are standing right over there.”

“I suggest,” Athos said coldly as he returned to Ninon’s side, “that you leave before we have to teach you a lesson about not attacking defenseless women.” Aramis came to flank her other side, giving the Guards a menacing smile, which told them he would like nothing more than to give them that lesson.

Deprived of their quarry, the Red Guards left the house. Ninon closed her eyes and breathed a sigh of relief. When she opened them again, she saw Athos looking at her with an unreadable expression. Aramis had taken the ladies into the dining room, making sure they all had something to eat and drink to calm their nerves, then returned to the library.

“That was entertaining,” Aramis said brightly as he rejoined the others.

“Why would the Red Guards think that you had a hidden chamber in your house to hide the missing girls?” Athos softly asked Ninon, not failing to notice the way she fidgeted under his questioning gaze.

“Madame de la Chappelle,” Ninon replied. “She was here earlier, helping me get ready for your arrival. She asked me where the girls were and I, stupidly thinking that she could be trusted, told her. She was the only one who could have alerted the Guards.”

“And where,” Athos asked with an edge in his voice, “are the girls now?”

“Porthos and D’artagnan are escorting them home,” Aramis told him, causing Athos’ head to swing from Ninon to him, a look of fury on his face.

“I sent word to Aramis after Madame de la Chappelle had left,” Ninon said quickly. “I thought about what you said earlier, and I didn’t want to keep lying to you. I knew that Aramis could help me get the girls back to their families.”

“We came when you were supposed to be dining,” Aramis said, “but you were both gone. I stayed behind to wait for your return and then the Guards showed up.”

Athos turned back to Ninon. “I trusted you that those girls weren’t here,” he spit out the words, giving her a disgusted look.

“Athos,” Aramis said reasonably, trying to calm his friend, “She was protecting the girls, not deceiving you. You’re being too hard on her.”

Athos looked Aramis for several heartbeats before turning an icy gaze on Ninon. “Thank you, Madame de Larroque,” he said in the coldest voice she had ever heard, “for deciding to do what is right.” He moved forward to go to the door, pausing next to Aramis. “We’ll discuss this later,” he told his friend before leaving the library, his footfalls echoing through the room.

“Athos!” Ninon called after him, but Aramis shook his head.

“Let him go,” he said gently, “he won’t listen to you now.”

“But I don’t understand,” Ninon said, “the girls are safe now.”

Aramis gave her a compassionate look. “Athos has a thing about people, especially women, who lie to him,” he said gently.

“His wife,” Ninon said, looking at the door through which he had exited, “she lied to him, didn’t she?”

“He never speaks about that time in his life, but I expect so,” Aramis said. “Now, why don’t we go and dine on what your chef has so thoughtfully prepared for this evening.”

Ninon allowed Aramis to lead her in to the dining room, which had been set for two. Over the delicious meal that Madame Gauthier had prepared, Aramis was the most charming dinner companion a woman could ask for, making conversation, telling jokes to make her smile, debating with her on one topic after another. After dining, Ninon allowed him to lead her upstairs to her bedchamber. Standing in front of her bed, he removed the dress she had carefully selected to for Athos, telling her how beautiful she was, leaning forward to take a rosy nipple in his mouth, suckling her delectably full breast and causing her to arch against him. Laying her down on the golden counterpane, Aramis made love to her with great tenderness, using all his amatory skills to make her climax again and again. When they were both completely sated, they lay back against the soft pillows, Ninon curled into the crook of Aramis’ arm, listening to the sound of his heartbeat as it returned to its regular steady rhythm.

“Why would Madame de la Chappelle tell the Red Guards that the girls were here?” she asked, running her fingers through the hair on his chest.

“Treville said that the Cardinal has been raising questions as to whether your relationship with the girls is healthy,” Aramis told her, rubbing her back. “She may have told him to curry favor with him.”

“That is a completely asinine suggestion,” Ninon snapped out. “Just because women enjoy each other’s company, men think it’s something unnatural.”

“The papal envoy, Sestini, has been throwing out accusations of witchcraft,” Aramis added. “And I wouldn’t put it past the Cardinal to put a spy into your salon, looking for something to use against you. His agents are everywhere.”

“But I am not a witch,” Ninon protested vehemently, raising her head to look at him, “they do not exist.”

“Of course they don’t,” Aramis agreed. “But, the accusation is a fine way to stop the tongues of outspoken women. And if you’re found guilty, your fortune becomes forfeit to the Crown.”

“What can I do to stop this?” she asked him, turning to rest her arms on his chest, giving him a frank look.

“The only one who can protect you from the Cardinal is the King himself,” Aramis said. “And Louis has made no secret of his desire for you.”

Ninon made a face. “I know,” she said in a less than pleased tone, “that’s one of the reasons I’ve been avoiding him.”

“As the King’s mistress, your position would be secure,” Aramis pointed out. “You’re wise enough to keep Louis enthralled with you and the Cardinal would think twice about going after you.”

Ninon knew that he was right. “But it’s just the thought of having to smile and pretend that he’s an amazing lover while I fake my orgasm to make him happy,” she said. “I did enough of that in my younger days as a courtesan. I like having the freedom to choose my own lovers.”

“Faking your own orgasm,” Aramis tutted, shaking his head sadly. “Now that is tragic.” Shifting, he pulled Ninon under him, settling himself between her wide spread thighs. “Why don’t I give you something to remember when you’re in bed with Louis,” he said, his lips brushed the soft skin of her neck as his hard cock brushed against her wet slit. “A woman like you should never have to fake it.”

Ninon’s sensual laugh quickly turned to moans as Aramis plunged into her to give her an amazing fuck that she knew she would never forget.


	4. Chapter 4

“Where is the King?” the Cardinal demanded as he came to the door of the King’s apartment.

“He’s occupied right now,” Treville told him, an amused smile on his face.

“With the Comtesse de Larroque,” Aramis added pleasantly, exchanging a look with Athos.

“Out of my way,” the Cardinal said tersely as he pushed past them to enter the King’s apartment, ignoring the triumphant looks on the faces of the three men. He crossed the antechamber to the door of Louis’ bedchamber, not failing to notice the moans carrying through from the other side. Opening the door, he stared, almost disbelieving the scene in front of him. On the ornate bed, lay Ninon, completely naked with her creamy thighs spread far apart, her back arched seductively. Between her thighs was an equally naked Louis, buttocks pumping as he thrust in and out of her pussy.

“Oh Ninon,” Louis panted, his eyes closed as he pushed himself deeper inside the wet sheath he had hitherto only dreamed of penetrating, “you feel like an angel. I’ve never had a woman so beautiful as you. You are absolutely divine.”

“Your Majesty,” Ninon moaned as she pumped her hips in a circle, her shapely breasts bouncing from the force of Louis’ strokes, “is the heavenly one, Sire. You are as great a lover as your father was.” As Louis continued pounding into her, Ninon spotted the Cardinal in the doorway and shot him a triumphant smile, silently telling him that he had lost the battle between them. Laughing, she threw her head back and lifted her hips to take Louis’ cock deeper.

The Cardinal turned and walked back toward the door he had entered through, deciding not to witness the climax the couple on the bed were rapidly approaching. As he reached the door, his face changed into the unreadable expression that had served him so well throughout his career. Leaving the apartment, his hawk like gaze landed on Treville, who was waiting for him alone, having sent Athos and Aramis back to their posts. The Musketeer captain met the Cardinal’s look with his own straightforward look.

“It seems you were correct, Jean,” the Cardinal said with the grudging respect of a chess player that has been outmaneuvered by his opponent. “The King is indeed occupied with the Comtesse.”

“I did warn you, Armand,” Treville said, acknowledging the Cardinal’s concession. The Cardinal stepped forward, moving into Treville’s space so that anyone observing them would think that they were sharing a friendly moment, but his words were very serious.

“Don’t think this changes anything,” the Cardinal said softly, coming directly to the point. “This is merely a skirmish, and I intend to win the war. France needs Ninon’s wealth.”

Treville watched as the Cardinal walked out with a sweep of his black robes. Donning his hat, Treville turned and went down the marble steps. Out in the courtyard, he mounted his horse which the royal grooms had brought to him, riding off back to the Garrison to finish the paperwork he had been putting off.

****

Ninon walked down the corridor away from the King’s apartment, a smile like the one on the famous da Vinci portrait playing on her lips. She had enjoyed the time she spent in the King’s bedchamber. Louis had been a better lover than she expected, something she decided could have been skill but was more likely the benefit of having low expectations. Treville was correct that Louis was as well-endowed as his father, and she moved him into positions that gave her pleasure and allowed him to last longer inside her. He was never going to be an amazing lover, he was too lazy (and if she were honest too stupid) to ever be that, but, with her guidance, he could turn out to be a satisfactory one.

But the best part, of course, was the look on the Cardinal’s face when he saw her in bed with Louis. The look of shock when he realized that his plans to trap her had failed was so priceless that Ninon had no choice but to let it carry her up to the most delicious climax, not even needing the memories of her night with Aramis to reach satisfaction. And Louis had been pleased with himself, thinking that he had been the one to bring her to that state. He looked almost like a child who performs a trick for his parents, that she didn’t have the heart to shake him out of his puffed-up pride.

Ninon was considering the possibilities that being the King’s mistress could bring to her cause of promoting women’s education as she walked down the corridor. The thought of being able to bring about her long hoped for dream of equality between men and women made her giddy. She was so wrapped up in her reverie that she didn’t see the hand snaking out to grab her arm and pull her into the alcove of an empty corridor, spinning her around so her back was pressed up against the white Caen stone wall. She found herself considering the pair of angry blue eyes that belonged to the man standing menacingly over her.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing, Ninon?” the Cardinal growled out, piercing her with his implacable stare while he placed his hand right next to her head.

Ninon gave a brilliant smile to show that she was unperturbed by his anger. “I’m simply protecting what is mine, Armand,” she said, with a note of amusement in her voice. “Surely you of all people can understand that.”

“Of course,” Armand said smoothly, “But right now France has a greater need of your fortune than you do. However, I am prepared to grant you a small income to live a quiet life outside Paris.” He gave her a predatory smile, like a cat who has just trapped a mouse. “You had best resign yourself to being dependent on my good graces if you want to continue enjoying your freedom.”

“The King will never allow it,” Ninon told him confidently.

“Do you really think I don’t know how to handle the King?” Armand let out a harsh laugh as he leaned in closer to Ninon. “If so, then your intellect is not nearly as sharp as it should be.”

“Ah, but you forget,” Ninon parried back verbally, “I also know how to handle the King. And more importantly,” without taking her eyes off his, her hands went to the fastenings of his breeches, “I know how to handle you.” Opening his breeches, she took out his ample, broad shaft, wrapping her slender fingers around the base.

“Do you remember,” she asked as she stroked down to his rotund cockhead then back up again, eliciting a groan from the Cardinal, “that time we fucked in the confessional in Sainte Chappelle?” She continued stroking him, his flesh hardening under her ministrations. “In that tiny little space. The two of us, drunk and horny. I was so wet I could barely keep you inside me, you kept slipping out.”

The Cardinal shoved Ninon’s skirts up to her waist, his hand nudging her thighs apart so he could sink a finger in her waiting pussy. “You’re just as wet right now,” he said, drawing an intricate little pattern that had her moaning as he teased her heated flesh.

“Mm,” she purred, brushing the tip of his cock, rubbing the milky fluid into the smooth head, “and you were even harder than you are now. Like iron.” She moaned again as his thumb found the pink pearl hidden between her nether lips and pressed it in a circular motion. “You had me sliding up and down on your giant cock while you sucked my tits. And that shopkeeper who came in to confess and then fled as though the devil was chasing him was the funniest thing I’ve ever seen.”

“It wouldn’t have happened if you’d been able to keep your mouth shut,” the Cardinal said as he gripped her thighs to lift her up and press her back against the wall. 

“You know I’ve never been one to be quiet in bed, Armand,” Ninon said, gripping his shoulders for balance. “And with you hitting every spot, there was no way I could control myself.” She smiled as he cupped her buttocks and guided her slowly down the length of his cock, wrapping her legs around his waist to draw him closer. Armand set a rhythm that he knew she loved, hard and fast and deep, and she cried out with pleasure as he slammed her back against the wall. 

“See how good things can be between us when we decide to play nicely,” she panted as he continued to pound between her thighs, working her hips to get more of him.

“I assure you, Ninon,” he retorted as he smacked her sweet spot, making her arch against him as her pussy squeezed his shaft tighter than he’d experienced from her before, “that when it comes to the good of France, I’ll play any way I need to win, nice or not. You’d do well to remember that.”

“Or what, Armand?” she laughed tauntingly. “Will you send another spy to my salon? In case you hadn’t noticed, Madame de la Chappelle failed to trap me by sending the Red Guards to my door. Do you really think I would be so stupid as to allow that to happen a second time?”

The Cardinal thrust hard into Ninon’s wet sheath, angling her hips so he went deeper to the point where their pelvises ground against each other. Ninon reached orgasm first, throwing her head back in ecstasy as her body convulsed around her lover’s hardness. He pressed her back against the wall, his lips buried in her throat as his hips jerked, and then he was coming, groaning with relief as his cock spurted hot seed into the soft channel wrapped around him. When he could finally speak again, he raised his head back to look at her with masculine satisfaction in his eyes.

“Well, in that case,” he said as he pulled out of Ninon and set her on her feet, “why don’t we have a détente in my suite later tonight? I can promise you there won’t be any spies in there.”

Ninon brushed down her skirts then gave him a satisfied smile of her own. “Alright then. Shall we say nine o’clock?”

The Cardinal nodded, then watched as the Comtesse turned and continued down the corridor that she had been traversing. Looking down at himself, he tucked his flaccid cock back into his breeches and refastened them. Turning in the opposite direction from Ninon, he walked down the empty corridor to his office.


	5. Chapter 5

“Oh, God, Armand.”

Ninon lay back on the tastefully appointed bed in the Cardinal’s suite later that night, her wrists bound above her head in the beautifully wrought irons that she knew he liked to use on occasion. Her back arched in sensual delight as, lying between her spread thighs, the man himself used his mouth to pleasure her. The soft hair of his moustache and beard tickled the skin on the inside of her thighs, and his fingers clamped down on her flesh to hold her in place. His tongue dipped in and out of her soaked pussy with small lapping strokes, like a cat drinking milk, as he tasted her nectar. Stroking his tongue up, he licked a stripe from her slit, going between her plump nether lips, to lave the swollen pink bud there. He sucked the tiny pearl and Ninon pressed her hips against his face, causing her bonds to pull tighter as her body lifted off the bed. He responded by going back to her slit and Ninon let out a sigh of pleasure as he penetrated her with his tongue.

Out of all the lovers she’d had in her career as a courtesan, Ninon took an almost perverse pleasure in fucking churchmen. The sex was often on the disappointing side, but she relished exposing their hypocrisy whenever they tried to moralize on the behavior of those who didn’t live in the righteous lockstep required by the princes of the Church. But somehow, Armand was different. He had a sincerity to his faith, yet he never took the moral high ground when it came to moving against those who crossed him. Everything he did for France, while not always pleasant, was always necessary, but it was never justified by a specious moral code. He had a unique ability to separate religious matters from secular ones and could parry any attempt to trap him in. And she’d certainly tried to trap him on many occasions. But he was also a very skilled lover, always giving his bedmates the same pleasure he demanded of them, and there wasn’t a single time where she hadn’t had a loud orgasm when they were in bed together.

“Touch me, Armand. Yes, like that. Deeper. Deeper,” Ninon panted as his fingers slid into her drenched pussy as he went back to sucking on her pearl. His long fingers pressed against her sweet spot, rubbing back and forth as his mouth applied pressure then suction to the tingling bud. Ninon’s head tipped back as she climaxed, her walls squeezing tightly around the Cardinal’s fingers that never stopped pushing her over the edge. His mouth stayed on her as she rode out her orgasm, continuing to suck and lave the tiny nub until she was completely spent.

As her chest heaved to catch her breath, the Cardinal lifted his head, his lips and beard glistening with Ninon’s juices, and moved up to straddle her chest. His engorged cock throbbed right in front of her lips, milky fluid dripping from the crest, and she opened her mouth to let him slide in. He moved slowly, keeping his strokes shallow at first, then gradually going deeper as he thrust in and out of her mouth. Ninon timed her breaths to when he pulled back, but with each stroke, the Cardinal went a little further into her throat and took a little longer to pull out, and it became more difficult for her to take a breath. Their gazes met and her blue eyes widened as she realized what was going to happen. The Cardinal braced himself against the headboard as his cock slid fully into place in Ninon’s throat. He closed his eyes against the exquisite sensation of her mouth and throat working as she struggled helplessly to eject him, staying firmly inside until her movements weakened and then finally ceased altogether.

Slowly, he slid his still erect phallus out from between Ninon’s slack lips and eased himself off her chest. Her head lolled open-mouthed to one side and her eyes stared sightlessly as the Cardinal went to the sideboard and poured himself a glass of wine. His head turned at the sound of a hidden door opening to his left.

“I thought the plan was to try her as a witch and burn her,” Milady said as she entered the bedchamber, her red silk dress wrapped around her lush body, inclining her head toward the dead woman still tied up on the bed.

“Burning at the stake is all very dark ages,” he replied, handing her the wineglass, then pouring a second glass for himself. “A courtesan choking on her lover’s cock seemed a much more appropriate death. And since all the other de Larroques are conveniently deceased, Ninon’s fortune goes directly to the State.”

“The King won’t like it, killing his new mistress,” Milady pointed out, taking a sip of her wine.

“A new navy will ease his mind,” the Cardinal told her, drinking from his own glass, “And the Abbess of Sablonceaux has always been willing to provide the King with new bedmates.” With a last look at Ninon’s body, he turned to Milady. “And Sestini?” he asked expectantly.

“Already taken care of,” Milady replied, holding up the bloody stiletto before setting it down on the table.

“Excellent,” the Cardinal said, satisfied. When Luca had presented him with the knee bone of St. Antony, he had noticed that it was a little too well preserved for a thousand-year-old saint. Once his friend had left his office, the Cardinal handed the bone to one of his hunting mastiffs, which had been lounging in the corner. He went back to his paperwork, not giving it any mind, until he heard the dog whimpering. He turned around to see it writhing in pain and vomiting up acrid-smelling, bitter bile before expiring in a heap on the floor. He called his guards in to dispose of the bone and the dog, then went back to his desk, his fingers forming a steeple as he considered what to do. _A papal relic soaked with poison. Some things never change._ He should’ve guessed that Urban would try something like this, but he hadn’t expected him to send an old friend to carry out the assassination. Then again, Luca had always had a touch of the fanatic about him, even when they were in the seminary together.

He saw Milady licking her lips as she gazed down at his pulsing erection. When their eyes met, they were both full of the lust that comes from snuffing out a human life, the act of killing adding a certain fillip to their meeting.

“Tell me, Milady,” he said, pushing her back onto the table and unwrapping the bodice of her gown to reveal her voluptuous breasts, her undergarments having been left in the room with the Jesuit’s corpse, his hands cupping them while his thumbs teased her nipples, “did you come when you killed Sestini?” He reached up under her skirt to finding her pussy hot and wet and ready for him.

“No, but he did,” Milady quipped as she shrugged out of the bodice, recalling the way Sestini’s seed splashed across her tongue as she slid the long, tapered knife between his ribs and into his heart. She curled her hips against the Cardinal’s hand and moaned as he rubbed her pearl.

The Cardinal gripped her thighs and lifted her, allowing her to wrap her legs around his waist as her arms wound around his neck and her pouty lips came down on his. With their tongues darting back and forth in their mouths, he carried her over to the bed, laying her down next to the dead woman still shackled to the bed. Kneeling between her thighs and shoving her skirt up around her waist, the Cardinal hooked her stocking-clad legs over his arms, spreading them apart and plunging into her wet heat.

“Do what you want, Armand,” Milady moaned, using the name he only permitted on the rare occasions when they were intimately entangled. With her arms flung above her head and her body angled up to take him as deep as she could, she looked over at Ninon’s lifeless face staring out into nothing. She had nothing against the deceased Comtesse, even if she had been flirting a little too much with Olivier. Ninon was merely a victim of circumstance and, sadly, needed to die to ensure that France maintained its preeminence on the Continent. She gasped with pleasure as the Cardinal fucked her hard and deep, his strokes hitting her sweet spot in a way that had her crying out with ecstasy, her hips grinding against his as their perspiration slick bodies slapped together. She relished the fact that she had a churchman between her thighs that knew how to fuck her properly. Sestini had been a serious disappointment in bed, and she had no qualms about sticking him with her stiletto for that alone. Her pussy clenched around the Cardinal like a vise as she surrendered to her orgasm, her walls squeezing him as she came apart on his cock.

The Cardinal shouted exultantly as he reached his release, his cock spewing his seed into Milady’s quivering pussy. His chest heaved as he gulped air into his lungs, the two of them coming back down from their high. He eased out of her still vibrating sheath, getting off the bed and donning an ermine robe. Opening his bedchamber door, he called his guards into the room, instructing them to take Ninon’s body, along with the bloody stiletto, and place them in Sestini’s room. When the guards had gone, Milady crooked her finger, and the Cardinal joined her on the bed, covering her body with his own.

****

The rain poured heavily as Athos and Aramis stood in front of the marble gravestone slab with the simple lettering in the Holy Innocents cemetery. The court had been shocked by the scandal of the body of the papal envoy Sestini being found in bed with that of the Comtesse de Larroque. The King, saddened by the death of his mistress, provided the money for the tomb, before moving quickly on to discuss with the Cardinal the plans for the new fleet of ships that would fly the French colors. The Musketeers did not fail to notice that Sestini’s body had been swiftly whisked away before any examination could take place. An inquiry at the morgue confirmed that no one had seen the dead priest, but that the thief who had stolen his bag had died of poison. The two men knew in their gut that the Cardinal was somehow responsible for what had happened to Ninon, but without evidence there was no way to prove it. And so here they were, paying their last respects to one of the most extraordinary women of her time.

“The artist did amazing work,” Aramis commented, drawing Athos’ attention to the statue.

Reclining on a chaise at the head of the slab, in pure white alabaster, was Ninon, reading a book. Aramis was right, the sculptor had captured Ninon perfectly. The smooth white stone formed into the twisted curls cascading over her shoulder and fell in the folds of her gown. Her lips were softly parted as her eyes gazed at the pages of her favorite tome held up in her graceful hand. She was so lifelike that one could almost hear her cultured voice reading out the words to her audience.

The two men stood there, each alone with his thoughts, silently speaking to the stone statue, expressing their admiration of her intellect and beauty, their regret for what might have been, and apologizing for being unable to save her from the Cardinal’s machinations. After finishing their confessions, they both laid a white rose on the slab, then returned to where their horses were tethered to mount them and return to the Garrison through the muddy streets of Paris, the gray sky confirming that the world had lost something that it would never get back.


End file.
